


Immunity

by spideyandstark



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: <33, Fluff, Iron Man - Freeform, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Sickfic, Spider-Man - Freeform, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Writing Prompt, also i haven't posted here in a while but like here u go my dudes, i can't think of tags my brain is dead, i love tony stark...., peter parker is an idiot tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 06:15:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16011971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideyandstark/pseuds/spideyandstark
Summary: As Ned waits to have the anti-flu injection, he realises that his superhero best friend must be immune. Spider-blood has gotta have some sort of advantage over the common cold.Right?(Spoilers - he's wrong.)





	Immunity

“Dude,” says Ned, his eyes going wide in a semblance of revelation from one of the semi-comfortable blue chairs in the nurse’s office. He lowers his voice, ever so slightly. “Since you’re a superhero, aren’t you, like, immune to stuff like this?”

A brief look of surprise flitters across Peter’s features, too. “That - makes sense. Yeah, I guess so.”

“So you don’t need the vaccination?” Ned pulls a face. “Lucky.”

The nurse comes back with a needle and a small swab of cotton. She looks at Peter harshly over the rim of outdated spectacles. “Do you need the flu vaccine, Mr. Parker?”

Peter discretely crumples the signed yellow form in his fist and shrugs. “Er, no. I already had it. At the doctor’s.”

“Then I’ll need you to wait outside.”

Peter nods, catching Ned’s look of jealousy and flashing him the thumbs up as he wanders outside, pressing his back against the wall while he waits. 

He spots MJ with a plaster at the top of her arm from the vaccine and fails to hide the smug look on his face. She spots him and flips him the bird.

Ned walks out a second later, absently rubbing at his arm. “It feels dead.”

Peter smiles sympathetically. “At least you won’t get the virus that’s going around.”

Ned shrugs. “I guess.” He looks at Peter. “But you know what would really make me feel better?”

“I’ve got the LEGO Iron Man in my locker,” Peter grins.

.

_Hey Mr. Stark!_ Peter punches out on his phone. He sits on the roof of a particularly tall building, his legs swinging over the ledge. The wintry sun somehow penetrates his skin and he quietly whips his mask off, wiping the beads of sweat with his sleeve. _Is it cool if I swing by the compound tonight?_

While he waits for a response, a notification pops up from leedtheway: _hey peter i think mj’s onto our surprise party idea_

It’s followed by: _oh crap are u spidermanning pls send a pic from the empire state building_

And then: _but not if ur kicking ass or something that’s cooler_

Finally Tony texts back. _Hey kid, sorry to disappoint but I’ve got a board meeting tonight. I’ll pick you up from school tomorrow. P.S. Did you seriously unironically use the word ‘swing’ just to make a Spider-Man pun_

Peter gazes down at the screen in disappointment, but he tries to make his response as lighthearted as possible. _Did you seriously unironically use the word ‘unironically’ because it has ‘iron’ in it_

The typing dots linger beside Tony’s name for a long time, before the response finally comes through. _Yes._

Smirking, Peter swipes back onto Ned’s chat and says: _I’m just on some building man. how’s your arm?_

_feels like i got bitten by a radioactive spider_

_i can relate_

Peter switches off his phone and slips it into his pocket as he scans the street below. He absently wrestles with his mask, briefly wondering if it’s worth sacrificing his identity for the feeling of the brisk winter air against his warming face. Eventually he sighs and pulls the mask back on.

_“Peter, your temperature is slightly higher than average.”_

“I’m fine Karen, just from moving around.” He stands up. “Any news?”

_“I’m picking up on a robbery relatively close by,”_ says Karen. _“They appear to be unarmed.”_

“Sounds easy,” Peter says, aiming a stream of webbing at an adjacent building. 

_“I’ll light up the path for you.”_

He swings relatively smoothly between the buildings and lampposts. At one point, he drops low to the ground to high five a kid in a Spider-Man shirt as he passes. The girl giggles and waves as he hoists himself back into the air, legs pulled into his chest as he latches the next wall.

When he arrives at the scene, he feels hotter than ever, and a writhing sort of discomfort moves around in his stomach. He wants to rip the mask off his face. Instead, Peter winces: “Jeez Karen, is the heater on?”

_“No. Your temperature is climbing. I’d advise you seek medical attention.”_

Peter swallows and waves his hand dismissively. “I told you I’m fine; I gotta stop these guys!”

_“Peter -”_

“Mute.”

Peter drops down to the ground, crouching below one of the florist’s airy windows and peeking over the sill. Two men stand blocking the door, while a woman stands at the counter, brandishing a _set of keys_ at a boy who’s shakily pulling cash from the register. Peter sighs, almost amused. _Keys?_

He pushes the door open with a bout of spider-enhanced strength, sending the two men tumbling into a pile of lilies. Peter’s eyes widen. He holds a hand up to the boy at the counter. “Sorry about your flowers! I’ll pay for - hey!”

He ducks as one of the men punches the space above his head. Peter drops to his back and kicks upward at him, sending him sprawling into a pile of prettily arranged roses and hydrangeas. When he leaps to his feet, the strong scent of flowers almost makes him gag.

The other man takes advantage of his hesitation, and while Peter attempts to sidestep, he catches his shoulder with a swift punch. Peter shoots him down with webbing and stands panting for a moment.

Then the woman’s fist shoots into his stomach and he doubles over with pain that shouldn’t be blinding - but is.

Peter does his best to straighten, but the floorboards tumble beneath his feet and he resists the overwhelming urge to throw up. Somehow, he clocks the woman in the jaw and restrains her with significantly fewer webs than the other guy, but the world is darkening rapidly at the edges, and he throws the boy a questioning thumbs up to which he smiles and says: “I’m good, thanks!”

Peter sprints out the door, ducking into the alley behind the building and doing his best to ensure one Tony Stark would not be interrupted from his important-sounding meeting.

“Karen,” he pants, “I’m gonna - go to sleep. So. Don’t call Mr. Stark. Please. Thanks.”

He sinks down against the dumpster before he can hear his AI respond.

.

_“Peter, it’s 11PM. Your temperature is dangerously high. Should I contact Mr. Stark?”_

Peter’s eyes open into slits. He groans, regarding his surroundings in unconcealed confusion, before instinctively trying to go back to sleep.

_“Peter, if I don’t receive a verbal response I am obligated to call Mr. Stark.”_

Peter sits up quickly, the large white eye-patches on the suit widening comically. “No! I’m - good! I’ll… go to the compound.”

He stands up staggeringly, holding a hand briefly against the wall. His head follows, pressed against the cool surface.

_“Peter,”_ says Karen warningly.

“Yeah?” says Peter. “Oh. Yeah.”

He pushes away from the wall, stumbling back before squinting around for the direction of the Compound.

_“I’ll light up the path.”_ Karen’s voice almost sounds exasperated. As the blue directions appear in Peter’s field of vision, he starts on his way, his voice reduced to a slurred murmur.

“Thanks.”

.

Peter webs his way up the side of the tower instead of using the door, despite Karen’s objections and the cloudy, logical instructions from his own brain. He spots an open window and crawls inside, leaning against the condensed glass and pulling his mask off.

He’s entered Tony’s lab. The man looks up as he hears Peter. He’s dressed smartly - his crisp suit and bagless eyes look out of place in the lab, where Tony works in grease and sweat and caffeine.

“Hey, kid,” he says cheerfully. The smile quickly falters. “Well, you don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark,” Peter swallows. “I thought you were working.”

“Just got back.” Tony drums his fingers against the worktop, the concern palpable in the space around him.

“Oh, cool.”

He blacks out.

Peter wakes up a second later in Tony’s arms. He knows it’s only been a fleeting moment because Tony is still looking down at him wide-eyed, awkwardly trying to hold him up while he repositions himself. 

As Peter looks up at him, confused, Tony smirks.

“You just fainted… straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes, kid.”

Peter half-smiles, but he feels safe. He closes his eyes again, and the next time he wakes up he’s in the med bay with Tony at his bedside and Dum-E holding a half-spilled bowl of soup, and maybe this was worth the sickness.

(”It most certainly was _not,_ Jesus Christ, I signed that fucking form for you,” says Tony. Dum-E spills coffee on his pants.)

**Author's Note:**

> based on a prompt list on my tumblr!!! find me @spideyandstark there too :)


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